High School Rock Out
by HalfDapperHero
Summary: If Dalton were a delinquent school, and Blaine was the ring leader. If Kurt was the new kid who wasn't as soft as he looked. Who would be at the top, and how long would they last?
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, this is cowritten by me and Beca, a.k.a. WoolWooker here on Fanfic._

_Mainly I edit and write Kurt/Blaine interaction because I'm a controlling bitch._

_Be prepared for more to come. :3_

_PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS!_

"Anderson!"

Blaine froze. He turned, a careful but slightly cocky smile plastered on his face.

"Sir? Can I help you?" he asked, oozing charm from nearly every pore.

"You're not wearing your blazer; where have you abandoned it now? I'd better not find it on fire like last time," the teacher stated, referring to an incident of the previous year where a bonfire had appeared on the sports field, fueled by an array of items. Including many of the boys' clothes.

"Definitely not, Sir. It's safely tucked in my locker right now," he returned confidently. His blazer was in fact not in his locker at all, but currently buried beneath a broken table in the school basement. "I'll put it on before my next class," he added with a sure, relaxed smile. In his head, however, Blaine was begging the teacher not to question any further.

"Well . . . be sure that you do," the teacher finished rather lamely, leaving Blaine standing in the corridor alone. Blaine immediately ran in the other direction, predictably enough, toward a door nearby marked 'PRIVATE – STRICTLY NO STUDENT ACCESS'.

"Blaine, where've you been?" questioned David, eyes wide with concern. Blaine glanced quickly at the clock, noting lazily that he was late.

"I got held up," he replied, slightly defensive as he threw his hands up. "Teacher noticed I didn't have my blazer. I mean, I _tried_ to get down here without being seen but, hey. I'm not a ninja."

"Who was it?" Thad demanded anxiously. The future of their group could depend solely on who they had encountered along the way. Blaine considered the question a lot more than he had the teacher he'd been spotted by. Paying attention to adults was not his forte', as any and all adults were 'the enemy in his eyes'. He preferred to keep them as a collective.

"I have no idea, might be new."

A low murmur began to flood through the group. A new teacher could only be one of two things: chaos, or disaster. A new set of eyes on the corridors, a new head in the classrooms, a new enemy to keep on watch . . . any of this could mean the end of the underground choir they had carefully set up, away from the teachers, and definitely away from the other students.

At Dalton Reformatory School for Boys, being in a show choir was suicide. Literally.

The rehearsal had gone smoothly enough, and Blaine glanced at the clock nervously. Free period was almost over and he hadn't yet managed to free his trapped blazer from beneath the heap of furniture at the back of their basement choir room. The other boys had trickled out of the room slowly, in twos and threes to avoid being noticed, so as usual he was the last to leave.

"Need a hand?"

Blaine spun around in surprise. Jeff was still there, sitting at the top of the steps up to exit. "Please. It's stuck." Blaine begged desperately. He couldn't afford another detention this week, not after last week's lunch time fiasco. Jeff stood up and helped Blaine move the broken bits of desk across the room, something he most definitely could not have done alone.

"How did it even get under there?" Jeff asked Blaine curiously. Jeff was the quiet kid, usually the first to leave the room at the end of rehearsal and the first to arrive the next day. Blaine had noticed he wasn't the kind to confront a situation; he was very much a follower and not a leader. This lead Blaine to wonder why he was here now, offering his assistance when many times before he'd ducked down at a chance. It was suspicious enough as it was.

"These desks weren't broken before," explained Blaine. "I've got a habit of climbing on furniture. Don't know if you've noticed." Jeff just smirked at him in reply, and he glared back.

"Anyway, I got carried away. One minute I was on a desk, and the next I was trapped under it. I crawled out easy enough, but the back of my blazer got snagged on something. I had to shrug it off to get out."

"Jesus Christ, are you okay?" Jeff questioned shakily, his eyes full of- was that fear? Blaine stared at him. It was certainly normal for Jeff to be concerned about his welfare, in this group it was of vital importance they all looked out for each other. But . . . there was something else here, something he couldn't quite find a name for.

"Yeah," Blaine replied quickly, avoiding Jeff's eyes as he went back to work on the desk debris. "I'm fine. It was nothing."

At last he was able to free his blazer, and he followed Jeff up the stairs, pulling his arms through the sleeves and grabbing his bag as he went.

Straightening his Marc Jacobs jacket, Kurt stepped through the front doors of Dalton. He was sure he was _supposed _to be intimidated by the imposing barbed-wire fence out front, and the guard stations, but he wasn't really. What was the difference between a school and a prison normally anyway? All that really bothered him was how it was all made out of dark brick. Honestly, had they ever even heard of school decor? 40's asylum chic had gone out with the asylums. Sighing, Kurt heaved his messenger bag over his shoulder and continued on through the hall, spotting what appeared to be a fellow student rounding the opposite corner.

Blaine was on his way to class, so to speak, when he spotted him. It took a moment for his brain to register that what he was seeing was real, because there was no way in hell a guy like him could be in a place like this. Down at the end of the hall, strutting in his direction, was the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen. Hair perfectly coifed, rose lips twisted into a smirk, and clothes that fashion models dreamed of; this boy was simply out of place among Dalton's uniformed delinquents.

Quickening his pace, Blaine strode right up to face this new kid, drinking him in with his eyes like he was the sweetest liquor. This kid wouldn't last a day in their dorms. "Who the fuck are you?" he growled lowly. Yes this boy was taller, but Blaine knew he was definitely the stronger of the two. Either he got this kid to scurry back with his tail between his legs or the other boys would chew him up and spit him out, and Blaine didn't want to see such a pretty face ruined.

"A better question, personally, would be who the fuck do you think you are," Kurt replied nonchalantly, smoothing the cuffs of his sleeves. "I mean honestly, that's not quite the cordial welcome one could have hoped for." Blaine almost took a step back; he hadn't been expecting such a sharp response. The other boys eyes raked lazily down over him and his nose wrinkled slightly. "Are these the uniforms? I guess they could be worse."

"You don't belong here," Blaine told him, getting over his initial shock at the audacity of this soft looking kid. "They'll rip your head off by third bell." Kurt laughed lightly, a sound reminiscent of ringing bells, high and sweet.

"You're cute. But I'll be fine, thanks." He reached out and patted the top of Blaine's head, grimacing lightly before pulling his hand away. "You could do with a little less gel though. I mean, a mop of curls is hardly threatening, but neither is a helmet like this." Blaine was used to people being scared of him, he was used to people listening to him when he talked; what he wasn't used to was this constant wave of insults and lack of respect. It was then that he knew if this boy wouldn't _listen_ to him, he'd have to _show_ him for himself.

It was with rough hands that Blaine gripped Kurt's shoulders, throwing him harshly against the row of lockers in the hall. Kurt hit them with a slight 'unf' but other than that gave no indication that this was unexpected or unwanted. Grinning, Blaine leaned his head up, placing his lips right against Kurt's ear and breathing softly into it.

"Bet you didn't do anything to get here. Bet you're soft, bet you taste soft." His tongue flicked along the edge of Kurt's ear, and he heard his quick intake of breath. "Bet I could have you wrapped around my finger and jelly in my hands before you had the chance to blink."

Kurt's voice was unnaturally high when he responded, but no less sure of itself. "I bet your lack of grammar is not uncommon around here." He leaned his head down and nipped Blaine's neck, hard. Yelping, the shorter boy pulled back, staring into Kurt's blue-green eyes and devilish grin. This time Kurt leaned in to whisper in Blaine's ear. "If it's any indication of the education here, I'd beg to differ. I bet you'll be wrapped around my finger sooner." Shuddering at the feel of the other boys hot breath and lips so close, he released him, stepping back shakily. Kurt cocked his head to the side.

"Yup, you're cute." He winked. "I'll be seeing you around." Then he turned heel on his white and black Doc Martens, striding down the hall like he owned the place and Blaine stood there silently, the image of those lake-water eyes burned into his mind. Maybe this boy wasn't so soft after all.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello there!_

_Wow, in just under 24 hours there are over 30 reviews and 100 people waiting for updates! We did not expect such a response, and we thank you!_

_We promise the next update by Monday afternoon dears. It can't be any sooner because we happen to live in completely separate time zones, me being in Florida and Beca being in England!_

_It takes a few hours of us typing back and forth and then about four read throughs and editing. Considering I am a co-writer AND the editor, it is necessary to do so many readings._

_We are just trying to make sure this is the highest quality writing possible._

_We hope you like our Blaine and Kurt, and be prepared for some super fun time next chapter, if you know what we mean._

_Please leave reviews; we love to know your opinions!_

_And for those who asked, our Tumblrs are as follow:_

_Kiers: Kiersthehalf-applejuiceprince_

_Beca: Klates_

_Love,_

_Beca & Kiers_

Blaine was trying to listen, he really was. However, fate had dealt a cruel hand and he was now stuck in French class with the boy from the corridor incident. He couldn't help but watch as the boy idly doodled on his notebook, clearly not paying attention either.

The teacher caught him off guard, asking him a question he didn't hear. An, "uhh" barely escaped his mouth before Kurt cut in, arm waving lazily into the air to snatch the teacher's attention away. His eyes met Blaine's, and his lips moved in a pattern that Blaine could not help but follow, and the French fell from Kurt's lips like leaves in the fall. It was gorgeous, addicting, the thick syllables shouldn't have been legal . . . the way those sounds felt, what they were doing to his ears. He shook his head quickly. Jesus fucking Christ, now was not the time to be getting this heated, and over his voice no less! Kurt glanced briefly over his shoulder at Blaine, smirking like he knew exactly what his voice was doing to him.

Congratulating Kurt on his flawless French, the teacher moved on to the next student, apparently forgetting about Blaine entirely. "I didn't need your help," Blaine whispered angrily to the boy sitting next to him. "They're used to me screwing up. It's kind of what I do."

Kurt tilted his head to the side, exactly the same way he had done so earlier in the hall. "You're welcome." He rolled his eyes theatrically and faced the front of the class again, leaving Blaine to stew in a feeling he wasn't used to: embarrassment.

Kurt stared ahead for a few seconds before discreetly turning to take in the boy sitting by him. He had a mop of short but intensely curly dark hair, messily flattened down with copious amounts of hair gel. His features were strong and angular, and Kurt supposed he was kind of good-looking . . . for a delinquent. He sighed heavily.

"My name is Kurt."

The other boy didn't respond, not at first anyway. His eyes were a deep, honey hazel with flecks of green and gold dancing their way around the iris. "Why should I care?" His voice was deep and nonchalant, the type of voice that gave an audible 'fuck you'. Kurt leaned back in his chair, stretching himself out slightly. He saw the way Blaine's eyes followed the fabric as it stretched against his hips and chest.

"Because usually I don't let men look at me like that before they even know my name," he purred, and then leaned forward. "And you seemed interested." Blaine's eyes widened slightly, but he had enough sense to look away. His sly smirk shielded his fast beating heart.

"I'm interested in you not being here," he replied, rather more forcefully than was necessary. Kurt reached out and tucked one of Blaine's wayward curls back into his tightly gelled shell.

"Honey, I already told you I can take care of myself."

It was only then that Kurt noticed the classroom had fallen silent, and even the teacher was staring at him in disbelief. He removed his hand from Blaine's hair, turquoise eyes finally revealing some shock. If he hadn't yet believed Blaine's little speech from the hallway, he certainly did now. Blaine hunched forward in his desk, smiling brightly at Kurt.

"Yeah, well honey?" Blaine said condescendingly. "I never said I wanted to take care of you." Kurt, not one to be deterred by the attention they had now gained during their quiet conversation, flicked his wrist, snatching up his notebook from his desk as he leaned over to whisper in Blaine's ear.

"_Could've fooled me._"

Silence followed Kurt's swift exit out the door, but that was soon remedied as Jeff slid into the now vacant seat beside him, hand brushing through the frosted tips of his blonde hair.

The class resumed its casual normalcy as everyone began talking about the strange way the new kid had acted. Under cover of the comparative chaos, Jeff turned to Blaine.

"Do you know him?" he asked, leaning forward on the desk.

Blaine wasn't sure how to answer. "Not really. We ran into each other in the corridor just after free period. He looked really, I don't know, fragile. I guess. I just told him how it was here."

"He didn't seem so fragile to me," Jeff countered, sounding unconvinced by Blaine's story. "Actually, I'd say he seemed the opposite. I've never seen anyone talk to you that way before Blaine. Or get away with it for that matter."

"No, nor have I," Blaine replied thoughtfully before kicking his feet up on his desk and reclining back in his chair. "He won't be getting away with it for long."

Kurt was in the restroom, but he wasn't there to use it, not even close. The way he saw this school was like a giant game, and you had to move your piece stealthily to get crowned. Blaine was obviously the king, the checkmate, the winner; it was his turn to shake things up. This was his move. Turning his nose up as he entered, he decided to only breathe out of his mouth. The place looked relatively clean, but in an all boys reform school you couldn't take everything at face value. He put his Marc Jacobs army general canvas bag on top of the chipped sink, pulling the silver snap up and retrieving a sheaf of papers from its depths. First appreciating the way his bag would match his school uniform with its navy color and red stripe through the sash, he then proceeded to shuffle through the papers for a moment. A satisfied grin snaked its way across his face as he found the one he was looking for. The headline read 'BLAINE ANDERSON'.

The paper was merely a rap sheet, one of the many he'd managed to track down for those at the top of Dalton's food chain before he arrived. It was best to be well-informed, Kurt knew that from personal experience, and he was very good at doing his research in time for the exams. For example, he already knew why Blaine had been dumped into this high-security boarding school. His eyes scanned the paper and his smirk grew wider. Yup, he knew why and he knew exactly how to turn that to his advantage.

Shoving the papers back into his canvas bag, he swiped the bottle lingering at the bottom. His Alterna hairspray did happen to cost $60 a bottle, but it was well worth the cause.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Blaine gathered up his books and followed Jeff out of the room and into the heavily crowded hallway, turning in a different direction. He had just made it to his locker when the fire alarm sounded immediately above his head, deafening in the narrow corridor and silencing the crowd. It was a high, piercing jangling that shook everyone in the hall to the very marrow of their bones and threatened to disrupt their organ placement.

He moved entirely by instinct once the scent of smoke hit his nose. Instead of following the sea of people outside, he fought the waves and tumbled through the door into the basement, nearly leaping down the steps. He was panicking, pacing across the floor, tugging his jacket on and off. Everyone would pin this fire on him, he knew it. This type of public display of delinquency would only do more to inflate his rep, but it wouldn't do good things for his placement at this school . . . at keeping him out of juvie. Eventually he was joined by Nick and then Jeff as they fought their way into the room. They stared at him in bewilderment. Jeff spoke first.

"How? But- but how?" He seemed to be beyond words, beyond coherent thought even.

"Jeff, c'mon. You know this wasn't me, you were in French with me the whole time."

"But we _just left. _How did you manage it? You must've had like, seconds. This is your best work yet!"

"Jeff, god damn it wasn't me this time!" Blaine held his head in his hands, pushing his hair back and cringing slightly at the gel he encountered. Maybe the new kid was right; he didn't need that much product. Blaine forced himself to calm down and murmured, "Great, this is just proof that no one's going to believe me." He quit pacing.

"Know what? Maybe it was me." Blaine was thinking fast. He had to make this work in his favor somehow; he couldn't let his reputation be trashed so easily. Jeff looked confused, but Blaine was already running back up the stairs, leaving his friends in the dark. He needed details, why the hell would anyone frame him? What was actually going on? He wrenched the heavy basement door open and slid back into the now empty hall. The fire alarm was still ringing desperately, the smell of smoke stronger as he ventured toward the lavatory where it seemed to be strongest. Blaine was set on finding out who'd started the fire and destroying them utterly. Everyone in the school knew this was his turf.

Rounding the corner Blaine's eyes found the source of the fire, and Kurt standing a good twenty feet down the hall from it. He skirted to a halt, rocking forward on the balls of his feet as he took in the wreckage of the first floor bathrooms. The door was blown open and a light layer of flames was licking the innards of the room. Kurt turned, spotting him instantly. A lighter was flicked back and forth between his hands, spinning ridiculously fast. At first Blaine didn't understand, but as he took in Kurt's Cheshire smile and sparkling eyes, noted his blackened fingertips and slightly mussed hair, he knew. He didn't know how and he didn't know why, but Kurt had done this.

"What the fuck?" Blaine demanded, stepping forward toward the other boy. He wasn't quite sure how to approach this, as Kurt couldn't know yet that arson was what had gotten him jailed in this cage to begin with.

"Well hello there," Kurt replied innocently, still tossing the lighter. "Have you come to fan the flames a bit?" Blaine strode right up to Kurt and snatched the lighter, flipping the cap open to let the flame run free as he spun it expertly between his fingers. The fire was reflected in Kurt's irises. "Oh what a show off, the little arsonist has skills!" The lighter stopped moving.

"What?" Blaine asked, mouth hanging open slightly as he stared at the smug boy standing in front of him. Taking the lighter back with his slender fingers, Kurt pocketed it before explaining.

"I know all about the little escapades that landed you here Blaine Anderson. This show was just an excuse to get your attention."

He couldn't believe it. This boy, _Kurt_, was not just tougher than he looked, he was absolutely _ruthless_. Kurt took that last step so that they were chest to chest, and Blaine literally had to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes. "Well you've fucking got it." Laughing, Kurt finally took a step back, waving his arm out dramatically as if to present the wreckage of the bathroom as a gift.

"Fucking wasn't really what I had in mind at the moment, maybe later." He chuckled at his own joke. Blaine was just standing there, not really sure how to respond. This boy . . . he knew nothing about him, not what he'd done or what he was capable; he'd already seen how far he was willing to go just to be noticed. Blaine wasn't ready to admit it to himself, but he was _afraid_, and oddly enough, incredibly turned on.

"Either way, I know that you're at the top of this school, and I'm here to let you know you're not going to stay there for much longer. There's a new head bitch in charge, and he's taking over." Kurt was a couple inches taller than Blaine and was a lot better dressed than Blaine. Where Blaine walked a dangerous line, Kurt was the dangerous line, and Blaine could tell. But there was no way in hell he was going down without a fight.

"That's what you seem to think," he growled. "But I've run this school for three years now and I don't quite think you're about to change that fact."

"There's always a new number to add to the equation. And don't you want to know how I managed to explode the bathroom?" Kurt questioned amiably, crossing his arms over his chest. "Or are you too stupid to even realize this is above the normal capacity of a fire?"

"I've been setting fires since I was eight," Blaine retorted instantly, feeling the anger begin to bubble up within him. There was something about Kurt, something that poked all the angry bubbles inside of him until he thought he was going to burst. How he just wanted to wring that slim neck of his. "I think I can realize when it isn't the normal little bonfire. You made a fireball."

Kurt clapped his hands together gently. "Good job! You are smarter than you look! It was a homemade flame thrower; I put the lighter on the hairspray and WOOSH." He spread his arms out to demonstrate. "Fire everywhere! I let it catch the can and then ran for hell." He paused for the punch. "Too bad I was already here."

"You're hilarious, be a comedian!" Blaine replied, rolling his eyes. "I admit that's better thought out than half the shit-heads here could plan, but it will take a lot more than a few Mario fireballs to ruin me."

Kurt tilted his head in that infuriating way he had that made him manage to both look completely malicious and utterly innocent at the same time. His voice was mild and sweet, but laced deeply with something sour. "I ruined all of Mckinley High, I think I can ruin you."


	3. Chapter 3

_Greetings readers!_

_Thank you so much for all the reviews, it means so much to us both! We read each and every one and take them into account as we work on the next chapter! Chapter Four should be here on Tuesday or Wednesday, depends on what we get done today._

_You guys are awesome, thank you so freaking much!_

_And for those who asked, our Tumblrs are as follow:_

_Kiers: Kiersthehalf-applejuiceprince_

_Beca: Klates_

_Love,_

_Beca & Kiers_

"You can't ruin what was already flawed," Blaine replied, rolling his eyes at Kurt's declaration. "All bark and no bite, that's what you are. All you've proven is that you're handy with hair product and intimidation tactics." He leaned right into Kurt's face until that their mouths were nearly touching. "So prove it to me."

There was no hesitation, no emotion in Kurt's next move. It was a cold, calculated, and perfectly executed swipe of his pawn and it was exactly what Blaine was urging him to do. His lips met Blaine's with a force that was entirely unexpected, and Blaine barely had time to register his mouth before Kurt was pushing him to the floor. Blaine's heart was beating right out of his chest, and a heat was growing within him that rivaled the heat of the flames in the nearby bathroom. He grabbed Kurt's face in his hands, pushing him up and returning the kiss. It was a wild clash of tongues and teeth and heat and sounds intertwined with the smoke that was slowly flooding the hall. He easily flipped Kurt, slamming his back against the wall and straddling his waist, knees on either side of his hips.

Kurt pulled back, gasping slightly in shock. He'd initiated this, sure, but Blaine had completely taken over, not letting him have a chance to breathe before capturing his mouth with his again. There was no _slow_, there was no _gentle_, there was no light meeting of their bodies. It was all hard, fast, and hot. All ideas of beating Blaine or of winning this game, of the nearby fire ... they all left Kurt's brain in this moment as their bodies reacted to one another. Blaine's hands were pulling at his shirt buttons; his own were pulling at the other boy's blazer, loosening the tie. Flesh hit flesh as they were released from their shirts, and Blaine began to kiss down his neck.

"Ah- I don't even know your name." Kurt gasped out. He did, of course, but Blaine didn't know that. He found that if he didn't reveal the extent of his knowledge right away, then he could drag out certain moves for much longer.

"I don't see why you need to know it," Blaine breathed against the soft skin below Kurt's ear. "Names have never mixed well with lies and lust."

"To be honest, there are _definitely_ ways that names can come in handy with sex," Kurt replied brokenly. "But either way, it's common courtesy. I told you mine." He could feel the pulse in his throat under this boy's lips and he wasn't expecting it to feel that good. Quickly regaining his composure, he mentally promised himself he wouldn't let anything show because he had to play his cards right.

"Yeah, you did. But I didn't ask you to," hissed Blaine as he continued to work his way down Kurt's neck and across his shoulders, pressing deceptively soft kisses against the skin there.

"Aren't you going to tell me? Though at this point it seems rather useless." Kurt said, looking down at the boy as he let him continue his ministrations.

"I'm not very forthcoming with information about myself, easier to get caught," Blaine answered as he sat up straight and looked Kurt in the eye.

"That's a shame. I usually like to get to know a little something about the people I let do _this,_" he said in a bored voice, gesturing vaguely to where Blaine had re-attached himself to Kurt's neck. "But you're right, names aren't really necessary."

Blaine looked down at him and frowned. Kurt wasn't betraying any emotion at all and Blaine decided then and there he was going to make Kurt react, one way or another. The smoke was getting thicker above their heads, rising to meet the ceiling as they remained pressed together on the heated tiles.

"I'm glad you agree," said Blaine as he suddenly ground his hips down, forcing a gasp out of Kurt, his eyes fluttering shut. _That's better_, Blaine thought as he continued to thrust heavily into Kurt's lap. Kurt groaned and slid sideways down the wall and onto the floor. He forgot he was in the hallway of a school, a very open and very public hallway, and simply lay on the ground, eyes clamped shut, back arched from the floor and head thrown back. He had accidentally knocked Blaine off him but Blaine didn't let that deter him, he climbed right back on top of Kurt and carried on. Even through his pants he could feel Kurt getting hard, just like he was. Kurt's tight, form-fitting jeans certainly were not helping the situation because Blaine could feel _everything._

He was completely in control, his touch was forcing Kurt over the edge and he reveled in the idea that he could bring someone this amount of ... pleasure? Kurt groaned once, and Blaine slowed down to grind deeper into him, running his tongue over Kurt's jaw line. They were both close at this point, as even Blaine's erection strained against his neatly pressed pants, though much less visibly. But all this was put to a stop with the sharp voice that cut between them like fishing line.

"BOYS."

Kurt's eyes snapped open and Blaine was off him within seconds to reveal a tall man standing at the end of the hall, his thick gray hair sticking up every which way as if he'd stuck a knife in an electrical socket. His eyes were a piercing lime green that honed in on Blaine instantly, while his voice was quite the opposite as he calmly continued:

"In case you haven't noticed, there's a fire not twenty yards down this hall. What did you think you were doing, perhaps trying to wake him up?" There was a sort of suggestion within that question, a way out for Blaine and Kurt that neither may have spotted without such forceful prodding.

"Umm, yeah," Blaine replied, standing up quickly to lean over Kurt. "He passed out from the smoke and I was trying to wake him up. Mouth to mouth, you know how it goes." He turned to the teacher as he idly scratched his neck, his face the perfect picture of innocence and concern. "That helps, right?" Kurt sat up and groaned, feigning ill as he rubbed his head while keeping a hand perfectly placed over his crotch. Luckily it was falling, and fast.

"Well it seems to have worked in this case," the teacher replied dryly. "Maybe it's time we moved a certain fire _outside,_ though. Just an idea." Coughing awkwardly, Blaine tucked his shirt into his pants, buttoning it quickly.

"Sounds swell," Kurt mumbled as he did the same. Blaine reached out and grasped his hand to yank him up, yet again effectively shielding Kurt's _problem_. He snatched his hand back quickly, reaching down to pick up his messenger bag and blazer while glaring at the shorter boy.

Blaine smiled cockily as he turned back to the teacher. "It's getting a little heated, can we head out?" The teacher nodded stiffly.

"I'm Ashwinder by the way," he announced clearly. "Dr. Ashwinder. Your new English teacher." He began to lead him down the hall.

"I'm Anderson," Blaine told him cheerily as he followed; he thought he'd recognized this man as the teacher from earlier. "This is Hummel, he's new too." Dr. Ashwinder glanced at the first boy, noting his thickly gelled hair and slightly pink cheeks, moving next to the taller more feminine boy with icy eyes.

"I'm glad Hummel doesn't seem to have the same problems with _his_ blazer as you do with yours."

"Huh?" Blaine glanced back to see his blazer lying on the floor back where he'd left it. "Ah fuck."

"Too late to go back, I can't let you near such a dangerous area again or I'll lose my job, out you go," Dr. Ashwinder told the boys. "I'll get it, so you two head to the courtyard." Exchanging glances, the boys nodded and proceeded on down the hall without the teacher. Once they were out of sight Ashwinder walked straight to the bathroom, ignoring the blazer haphazardly spread out on the tiles. The flames were mostly died down and he sniffed, the acrid scent of burning hairspray forcing him to wrinkle his nose. He was going to have to keep an eye on those two, because it had been obvious this fire wasn't the only flames that had been fanned recently.


	4. Chapter 4

_Alright guys, so there have been a few inconsistencies pointed out. Some of them were actually intentional, just badly written and will be explained this chapter. Others such as Kurt saying Blaine's name when he was pretending he didn't…oops. That is just a major fail. Two writers can make consistency difficult, so bear with us as we learn the ropes okay?And remember, nothing's perfect._

_We'll also try to clear up whose speaking and who is where, again, the trials of a duo-writing. ;D_

_This chapter is kind of a lead up to next chapter, a kind of in-between to give more background for the next chapter to kick things off again._

_REVIEWS ARE WHAT WE LIVE AND BREATHE FOR, OKAY? Keeps us going._

_Thanks so much for sticking with us as we trek in this wild world of Fan Fiction!_

_And for those who asked, our Tumblrs are as follow:_

_Kiers: Kiersthehalf-applejuiceprince_

_Beca: Klates_

_Love,_

_Beca & Kiers_

By the time the two made it to the field outside the school, Blaine and Kurt were greeted by a sea of curious eyes. Everyone was staring at them, taking in their rumpled clothing and sweaty faces. They quickly separated, Kurt going one way and Blaine stepping toward his group of friends to see their expressions, a mixture of awe and disappointment, no-one wanting to be the first to speak. There was only silence. Blaine felt uncomfortable because this was about the fire, the fire he didn't start. He still didn't know what to say to the guys but he knew he had to make a decision. He cleared his throat awkwardly and began to explain.

"The fire in the bathroom ... that was me."

He let the words settle as David pushed to the front of the group.

"I thought you'd gotten past that. I thought your days of mindless fire-starting were over. What happened, man?" he asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Blaine blinked twice, before grinning crookedly.

"It was for the new kid, you know how it goes. He can't talk to me like that so I had to show him what I can do."

"What the fuck _did _you do?"

"I didn't hurt him guys, I'm not stupid!" Blaine replied angrily, not knowing if he sounded convincing enough. Everyone was still staring at him. "Jeff, you were there!" The blonde, who until this point had been silent at the back of the group twisting his hands furiously in his lap, looked up.

"I don't know, Blaine..." he started, a little unsure of himself. "You were so fast, I just don't even know. I mean, one minute you were behind me and the next, bam. Fire." Finishing, he shrugged slightly.

Blaine didn't know what to think, but he was trying desperately to find the right words to fix all of this.

"I planted it, earlier," he tried. "I met Kurt and I knew his attitude wasn't right so I had to teach him a lesson." Warming to this idea, he sped up. "I got him to meet me at the bathroom, only I never showed up. It was timed to go off before he got there though so all it did was shake him up." Grinning widely, Blaine held his hand up for a high five, and Jeff didn't disappoint as he slapped his palm.

Kurt watched the group discreetly from across the field, considering how it might make things a little easier if he had someone to talk to and look normal with.

"Kurt Hummel, right?" questioned a voice from behind him. "I'm Wesley Montgomery, a friend of Blaine's."

Turning to identify the speaker, Kurt calmly took him in. Wes was tall with short, dark hair. He extended a hand to Kurt who briefly shook it.

"You look kinda lost man, why don't you come and meet the guys?" Wes suggested in a friendly manner, gesturing over to the group surrounding Blaine. "I heard you were a little shaken by the fire. It's kind of Blaine's _thing. _Fires, I mean. Don't let him scare you too much."

"Oh, don't worry. He won't." Kurt assured him, nodding his head while trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"What do you mean?" said Wes, sounding confused.

"Well, I take it that you believe everything Blaine tells you?" Kurt mused, glancing across at the taller boy and allowing a small smirk to play about his lips as he turned and began to walk away.

"Why wouldn't I?" At this, Kurt glanced back at the baffled young man.

"Why indeed."

It was just plain weird, and Blaine knew it. This new kid had walked into Dalton's halls like he owned the place, and then he proceeded to attempt and burn it down just to get the attention of a boy he barely knew. And what did he do once he had that attention? He made out with him in a burning hallway. Rolling over in his bed, Blaine stared at the ceiling of his dorm, listening to the light breaths of Jeff on the bed across the room as he considered the day. Sleep was something that was hard for him to come by, and often he lay awake at night thinking about his day, thinking about the Warblers and how they'd pull through on the next practice, basically everything. Being in charge was tough, but Blaine knew there was no one else to do it, at least not until Kurt had shown up. He gritted his teeth; no way was he gonna let the new kid take the spot he'd been working so hard for, the spot he'd built from scratch.

Kurt was fascinating, Blaine could easily admit this. He was nothing like any other boy Blaine had ever met, he tasted like no one else he'd ever kissed, and Blaine had met and kissed a_ lot_ of boys. His voice was pure, sweet and menacing simultaneously; his face was angelic, but he had the ability to twist it into something darker; Kurt had the odd talent to make Blaine feel completely foolish, and that has never happened before. Shaking his head, Blaine tried to forget about the way Kurt affected him for the moment and attempted to focus on how he could make him pay for the bathroom fiasco. Not only had he crossed a line and used fire, he was playing the game on a level Blaine wasn't used to. This level was all new, highly attractive, and deadly.

The Warblers were supposed to have another practice the next day, six a.m. sharp before classes started. It was easier to have rehearsals in the morning because they usually had eyes on them at all times, considering the nature of this school and their students. Show choir really was a type of social suicide in Dalton, and Blaine just didn't get was like a cage for all of them, a cage to tighten around them and squeeze their personalities out so they could conform to society's rules and regulations and definitions of normal. What was so bad about letting out your inner warbler, about singing so loud and hard for the first time in your life you thought maybe it was okay to be yourself, that maybe being yourself was _good_? Blaine would never understand how even sometimes the outcasts themselves will form groups and stereotype some and then cast those out; was there really no place any of them could actually just be themselves?

Sighing, Blaine arched his back and stretched out his legs, grimacing at the sudden tingling that spread throughout his faintly numb limbs. That's when it hit him. As the old adage goes, "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" ... he was going to ask Kurt to join the Warblers.

Down the hall, Kurt was not on an entirely separate thought trail. It was just less detailed. Unpacking took quite a bit of effort, and effort was something that Kurt rarely gave unless it would benefit him. So his designer clothes still remained in his three suitcases, and he laid on the 100 count cotton polyester blend sheets in a heightened state of disgust, but he just could not bring himself to pull out his own sheets just yet. There was far too much on his mind. Blaine certainly knew how to play the game, Kurt understood now that he would not be easy to crush and he relished the challenge. This was the first time anyone worthy had ever stood up against him, had acknowledged his ability; this was the first time he had a rival. Grinning, Kurt finally closed his eyes to give in to sleep, his room quiet as he was the only occupant. He would be giving Blaine hell and he couldn't wait to begin.

In another room entirely separate from these boys, Dr. Ashwinder was pacing. He may have been new to this school, but he was not new in the long and rather exhausting job of teaching and discipline. Neither was he stupid. Dr. Ashwinder knew what the boys had been up to, but he also knew that he was lucky Blaine hadn't noticed that even though he was the "new teacher" he'd known not only who he was earlier but also about the blazer incident of last year. By giving them both a chance to get away with things, he was saving face and drawing notice off of any future errors he might commit. Ashwinder was not in fact new to this school, he'd attended it back when he was a boy and things had not gone as swell as they were going for the kids here now. When Ashwinder was young, Dalton Reformatory had stolen him out of all he'd once known and threw him into a world, changing him in ways that he could never reverse. Now it was his turn to change the school itself and bring back what was stolen from him.

Blaine stumbled into the basement the next morning with minutes to spare. No-one looked up as he entered with Jeff close behind him as they were still scrambling around setting up chairs and music stands and handing out sheets and folders. He quickly made his way to the front of the room and caught the attention of the boys who sat before him.

"I have a proposition," he began, taking in the row of faces eyeing him with a mix of awe and suspicion. "We're asking Kurt to join the Warblers."

His statement was met with a sudden wave of whispers as the boys conferred with their immediate neighbors. Wes was the first to address Blaine.

"Can he sing?" An important question, albeit a simple one.

"I have no idea," admitted Blaine.

"Then why do you want him to join?"

"You've seen him right? You've heard how he talks to me? Someone that stupid needs to be kept very close." Blaine could see the looks of affirmation in the other boys eyes.

"Yeah," Jeff piped up. "Yeah I've never seen anybody talk that way to Blaine. In French yesterday, he was talking like they'd known each other for years, like he could say anything he wanted."

This triggered more whispers from the motley crew of boys in front of Blaine as they debated their options. Either invite an unknown into the group and keep their eyes on him, or let him run rampant around the campus. Such a decision was rather easy. Blaine watched slowly as the whispers died down and then turned back to face him.

"So, we'll take a vote. Course even if I ask he could always say no. I think you'll agree that it's in our best interest to try and convince him though. So, hands up. Who thinks it's worth a shot?"

Everyone in the room put up their hand, well, everyone except for Jeff.

"Jeff?" Blaine addressed the boy, trying to clear his face of the annoyance he felt. "What's the problem?"

"Well, who's to say he won't blab about what we do here?" Jeff said, sounding a little nervous. "He could tell anyone. Do you honestly think he'll keep his mouth shut?"

Blaine regarded Jeff as he thought quickly, because he had a point. It was, however, a risk they must be willing to take.

"I think he'll keep his mouth shut if he wants to keep breathing. Besides, we all know I have ways of making sure he's mute. If he does tell ... Well we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it." He grinned darkly. "And then burn it to the ground."

There was a little bout of awkward laughter among the boys before a consensus was unanimously given with Jeff's final admission.

"Alright, sure."

Ten minutes later found Blaine walking on the third floor of the western dormitories, tracking down room 13b. He had set up a plan with the guys and they were about to rock Kurt's world in the most literal way possible. Approaching the door, Blaine slapped a condescending grin on his face and rapped the door sharply with his knuckles. The door swung open so fast that Blaine took a step back, eyes wide in shock to see Kurt standing there dressed immaculately in his uniform.

"It suits you," was all he said, and for a moment Kurt just stared blankly at him. It was almost unnerving, those eyes like two still pools of water, sharp and reflective as glass.

"I know." Kurt sighed and put a hand on his hip, mouth twitching up at the corner as he said languidly, "I think it's a bit early to repeat yesterday, don't you think." Blaine let out a bark of derisive laughter and leaned forward onto the door jamb, looking right into those penetrating eyes, and winked.

"It's never too early, but that's not what I'm here about it," Blaine told him, standing straight again. "I've come with a proposal."

"A proposal?" Kurt's perfectly waxed eyebrows arched slightly.

"Yup. Do you know what Glee Club is?" Blaine's voice was deep, slightly persuading. He needed Kurt to join, he needed a leash on this rabid beast before he reached out and spread his disease.

Kurt tapped his fingers against the arm of his blazer, and Blaine finally noticed how good the other boy looked in it, how it was tailored perfectly to the waist and how those pants hugged his thighs and ... Blaine shook his head once, hard. Now was not the time to be distracted.

"I'm not an idiot, anyone with a brain and any sort of musical inclination knows what a Glee Club is." Kurt's voice may have sounded completely bored by this entire conversation, but his heart was pounding. If there was one thing he loved, it was to sing, but he was quite certain that any sort of club was banned in the Dalton Reformatory rule book. "But I also happen to know that such a thing is not allowed in this school." He'd been in the Glee Club back at his old school, and he was sure there was no way Blaine could know that ... could he?

"Of course it is," Blaine replied dryly, rolling his eyes. "So is anything that can spur any amount of creativity." For a moment Kurt was speechless, apparently Blaine was more than he appeared to be. More than those deep hazel eyes, those well developed muscles, those curls that were thankfully free from their prison of gel this morning. Decisively, he stepped forward from his room, forcing Blaine to step backward quickly or else they'd collide.

"Sounds interesting." Kurt let his words roll loosely off his tongue, as if the idea merely intrigued him and nothing else. "Impress me then."

"Trust me," Blaine replied as he grabbed the taller boys hand and dragged him unceremoniously down the hall. "The Warblers are good at impressing."


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey guys! Sorry this installment came out so late, but it's DEATHLY HALLOWS week! I went to the midnight premiere and left half a chapter, and without me Beca was all "teehee there's no one to make sure I work". But I came back from my busy week today and forced her to sit down and we eventually completed this chapter. Thanks for bearing with us!_

_**The song used in this chapter is From Heads Unworthy by Rise Against.**_

_We love you all, and your reviews!_

_And for those who asked, our Tumblrs are as follow:_

_Kiers: Kiersthehalf-applejuiceprince_

_Beca: Klates_

_Love,_

_Beca & Kiers_

Kurt tugged his hand out of Blaine's grasp just as they reached the basement, and Blaine winked at him over his shoulder just before knocking the door open. At first Kurt was confused to descend into utter darkness, but then the lights came on in a sudden blinding flash that covered his vision in spots momentarily and his ears were blasted with an opening guitar rift. Fuzzily, he watched as Blaine leapt off the last three steps and turn around to face him, mouth opening as the first words of the song were released.

"_We are the children you reject and disregard. _

_These aching cries come from the bottom of our hearts._"

His voice was low and gravelly, but Kurt could tell he had a wide singing range. Blaine's hands went up to grasp his chest over his blazer, right where his heart should be.

_"You can't disown us now, we are your own flesh and blood_

_And we don't disappear just because your eyes are shut, now tell me."_

As Kurt finished walking down the stairs Blaine spun on the spot, nodding at him. The other boys voices began to add beat, the guitar leading. They performed in a perfect capella, harmonizing so brilliantly with Blaine that it was as if they were instruments themselves.

"_Love, loss like a bullets path_

_Tear through the cavity of my chest_

_Lights out because the fuse has blown."_

Blaine was utilizing the entirety of the storage basement, spinning and dancing, looking right at Kurt as he sang, his light hazel eyes dark with meaning. Kurt knew the song, and it wasn't really his style. But he understood right now what it meant, how it represented this group and Dalton. How each one of them was tossed in here to forget about, how each of them had not been deemed worthy enough, and how now they were rightfully claiming their crowns. For the next verse, he climbed up onto a desk and threw his arms into the air.

"_As their castles crumble slowly_

_We watch them fall_

_The crown slips from heads unworthy_

_As we gain control._"

Miming pulling a crown down from his head, Blaine squatted on the desk, reaching hands out to the fellow Warblers, and they all reached back simultaneously. The harmonies continued flawlessly.

"_This is the family that we crossed or never had_

_This is a war that was lost the day that it began._"

Now Blaine leapt from the desk, running across the basement from Nick and then to Jeff, stopping and turning when he reached each end until he was at the middle once more, looking pained as he was left alone. His eyes beseeched Kurt.

"_Because it's the race we run, but it keeps us at the start_

_And it's the song I sung from the bottom of heart, that's how we_

_Read you like a polygraph!_"

Blaine stepped forward to Kurt as he pointed at him momentarily, slowly, each word another pace until they were chest to chest. He shoved him once and Kurt stumbled, falling onto the bottom step as the shorter boy got right up into his face.

"_Not one single bone in your back_

_Own up to how you let us down!_"

And then he took a step back, left Kurt sitting there breathing heavily and just sitting in amazement at the purity of all their voices. Blaine slowly removed his blazer, glancing to the left as he did so, almost as if into the distance.

"_As their castles crumble slowly_

_We watch them fall_

_The crown slips from heads unworthy_

_As we gain control..._"

Blaine spread his arms out wide, singing right at Kurt as he got up, starting to get annoyed at himself for being so obviously in awe of their performance. Kurt began to walk toward Blaine as he climbed up onto another desk on the far right, leaning lower to stay eye to eye with Kurt.

"_Except for you and me, love_

_Everyone is the same, we know, we know, we know, we know_

_But if to live we have to be numb_

_I'd rather know the pain, I'd rather know, I'd rather know!_"

It was then that Kurt finally smiled; almost seductively as he jerked his hips in one gyrating movement and leaned so that he and Blaine's noses were almost touching. He stole the words out of the other boy's mouth as his countertenor took over, and they exchanged lyrics like a conversation.

"_This happens almost never but it happened once to me_

_And this will never be the same, _

_the ends we seem together_

_I'm not after fame and fortune_

_I'm after you..._

_When I've served my time I swear I_

_will come back for you..._"

Their voices intertwined almost perfectly, and the Warblers let their own fall to the background seamlessly. Kurt and Blaine were still eye to eye, each smiling darkly, proving to each other something ... something not even they yet fully understood. Combining their tones once more, they completed the final chorus in unison.

"_As their castles crumble slowly_

_We watch them fall_

_The crown slips from heads unworthy_

_Right on to ours, but I'm after you, but I'm after you_

_But I'm after you, but I'm after you._"

A moment of silence followed the last trailing word, and as that syllable vanished off into the distance where they could no longer hear it, a Warbler coughed. Turning, Kurt saw it was Jeff and he cocked an eyebrow. "Yes?"

He looked nervous as he stepped forward, wiping his blonde bangs out of his eyes repeatedly as he spoke, eyes darting first right than left. "Why are you two up in each others grills like that? I mean, neither of you invited each other to a barbecue." There was a long awkward pause where Kurt's jaw dropped, and then the entire room of boys was cracking up. They seemed to find his ludicrous statement hysterical. Blaine jumped down off the desk, reaching out to fix Kurt's tie and straighten the lapel of his blazer.

"Good job new kid, you've got a voice." He patted his cheek and Kurt pulled back glaring. "Welcome to the Warblers!"

"That was a bit risky," Nick, leaning around a shelf as Wes also approached.

"Yeah, you didn't even know he could sing, and you basically told him everything about us." There was a light pause as the two boys gave their friend a meaningful look.

Nick picked up a book and flipped through the pages without even glancing at the words. "Blaine, at least next time you think a guy's cute give us a little warning. That 'show' could have become a disaster."

"I'm really fucking hungry," Jeff tossed in from where he sat beside Blaine, dark honey eyes pleading.

"I can't believe you made us help you with that, why couldn't we have asked normally," David added, completely ignoring Jeff's little interjection, even as he raised his hand up.

"Seriously though guys, I'm starving."

"Shut up, Jeff," Nick tossed to him, rolling his eyes at Wes, who shook his head knowingly in return.

"Hey, I just wanna know when we're going to eat," Jeff replied with a shrug. "I mean, that already happened. Can't we focus on the current future, such as LUNCH?"

"Blaine, look," Wes said, brushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning onto the table. "It's great you have a little crush or whatever on the new kid. It's this rival kink, I get it. But can you at least choreograph your life in a way that doesn't force us to perform on a moments notice?"

Blaine sighed heavily and put down his book. The frantic whispered discussion was starting to attract attention; perhaps the library was not the most suitable of locations for a Warbler argument. He, Jeff, Nick, David and Wes were huddled around a table towards the back of the room, hidden partly from view by rows of books and an ancient computer, but still visible enough to be in the eye line of the librarian at the front desk. She frowned at them briefly over her glasses. Blaine had been trying to ignore the conversation but he finally looked up and addressed the cluster of faces before him.

"Okay, fine. He's intoxicating," Blaine told his friends openly, shrugging at the admission. "But I have no idea what to do about it. He's _slippery_. I've only known him a day and a half and every time I think I understand him he goes and does something I don't expect. Like that singing along... thing." Throwing his hands into the air, Blaine let out a sigh before turning to the boy beside him, saying sharply, "And Jeff, if you're so damn hungry just go to lunch already. We'll meet you there."

Smiling gratefully, Jeff quickly grabbed his bag and all but ran from the room, the librarian tutting disapprovingly at him in his wake. Blaine looked at his friends. They didn't exactly look at ease.

"Guys, show some spontaneity. I don't just show any random boy into our secret base; besides, try and tell me you didn't have fun this morning," Blaine said. "We were totally badass." He felt that every conversation with the Warblers these days was just him trying to convince them of something . . . That he started a fire. That they should help him serenade a stranger. That he's not an idiot. That Kurt is worth being an idiot for, if just for the chance to get into his head for a while. No matter what Blaine did, no matter how far he went Kurt always managed to look superior. "I'm not stupid."

"Are you sure, Blaine?" Wes argued. "I think that lately things have been getting to you, that leading things is just stressful. It's messing with your head."

The challenge hung in the air, thick enough to suffocate them.

"Are you implying that someone else should take over," Blaine demanded coldly, standing up. "Are you volunteering, Wes?" The other boy started to look nervous. "This isn't about me. Or you. It's about all of us. And _Kurt._ We need him on our side; he can sing, he's got a strong head on his shoulders, and now we need his alliance before he takes over the school and suddenly decides we should be outted and expelled!" There was silence as people looked to Wes for his response, but at that moment, Jeff reappeared from around the bookshelves looking decidedly out of breath and at a loss for words.

"Kurt!" He spluttered, cryptically. The group stared at him as if he'd lost his mind except for Wes, who merely looked relieved at the distraction.

"He's coming here. He's like, _thirty seconds away_ from barging in!" Jeff eventually managed to spit out. "He asked me where Blaine was and I took a shortcut back here!" Immediately the boys began shoving away their sheet music and books and attempted to arrange their expressions to something more casual. With not a second to spare, Kurt rounded the corner with a congenial smile.

"Afternoon, boys," he drawled, flicking a wrist in a polite wave, quickly assessing their too-natural faces and uncomfortable positions around the table. The boys gulped, and then he knew. "You look like you've been having fun."

"Hello, Kurt." they mumbled over each other, sounding much like a humbled class addressing a teacher after they've been caught being disrespectful. Kurt regarded them with narrow eyes and a tight lipped smile.

". . . Yes. Right. Well I do hope you don't mind?" he said with one eyebrow raised, and without waiting for an answer he pulled up a chair. Unearthing some school work, he began to jot down a few things before looking up and finding the others still nervously adopting the same awkward stances, none of them daring to look at each other let alone Kurt. The silence was palpable and Kurt cleared his throat loudly, staring at all of them as they averted his gaze. The answer to their odd behavior was easily reached, and he'd already come to it.

"You were talking about me." It wasn't a question and the boys knew it. Wes shifted guiltily in his seat, glancing at David and Nick as Kurt smiled smugly. "That's okay boys, it's hard not to."

"Erm, your voice," David said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. "It's pretty good." Kurt put his chin in his hand and tilted his head, winking.

"I know." With a loud snap, Blaine finally closed the history book in front of him and shoved it into Jeff's arms.

"Kurt, can we talk?" Kurt looked momentarily taken aback, but quickly composed himself.

"Of course," he responded lightly, putting his pen down on top of his notebook and standing up, brushing off his blazer. "Where to?" With a slight jerk of his head, Blaine directed Kurt toward the exit, and Kurt complied. Kurt knew what was coming, he was used to it. His personality was a little more than sharp, and was probably too poignant. He had to give props to Blaine for his excellent swipe of his pawn, but once again Kurt had topped him easily, because that was what Kurt was born to do. Obviously Blaine had figured this out, and obviously Blaine had decided that maybe him joining the Warblers wasn't the best thing, as he had a tendency to. . . be better than everyone else at everything.

As they entered the hall, Blaine turned toward Kurt and looked him right in the eye. His heart was pounding and he couldn't explain it. He hadn't been lying when he'd told his fellow Warblers that he found Kurt intoxicating. He was almost like a drug, one that made you feel so mighty and strong while you were on it, and then after nothing lived up to your expectations. He'd found that within the few short meetings they'd had, life was bleak after Kurt.

"Well, it seems to me the Warblers have been working hard for a very long time, and they deserve some time to shine," Blaine said quietly, not moving his eyes from where they were sunken deep into Kurt's gaze. "And I've got a plan. I was thinking you could help me with it."


End file.
